


Take My Hand

by narwalish



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Anxiety Attacks, Blindness, Drastoria, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Humour, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-27 18:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narwalish/pseuds/narwalish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy is the hated, yet respected, CEO of London's largest bank. Astoria Greengrass is his (slightly more respected) PA, who essentially lives to serve him. But when Astoria gets a call telling her that Draco has been in a car crash, and has been left permanently blind, how will she cope? She's all he has, but will she be able to deal with caring for the man she hates?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating will go up! x

A sense of authority is always the best way to brighten up your day. To Draco Malfoy, walking into the busy bank and practically _smelling_ the fear coming off his inferiors gave him as much motivation as his first mug of coffee in the morning, if not more.

As he made his way upwards towards his office, Draco’s confidence grew. From the sudden rush of people leaving the elevator as he entered, to the vast crowds of his minions moving from his path with each gentle _tap_ of his Italian leather shoes against the polished tiled floor, everything Draco did made him the businessman he was, and kept him happy.

The upper levels of the bank were carpeted, a rich royal blue. The hallways smelt of just-polished glass, and the only sounds were those of phone calls and busy workers. The sound of Draco’s industry, his _empire._ He made his way through his PA’s office, noting the empty desk, and made his way through to his own. Everything organised perfectly, from the desk layout to the drawer filing, everything _perfect._ The only thing that could make it better would probably be a piping hot cup of coffee. And he knew just the person to get it for him.

* * *

Astoria Greengrass stood by the coffee machine, praying for some terrible accident that would allow the ceiling lamp to fall from its fitting and kill her, but no such miracle came. She wasn’t going to complain about the pay, no. She got paid enough to keep her quiet. It was just some areas of her job description….

“Let me guess, trying to make the fridge explode and knock you into a coma?” Astoria shook from her daze to look up at the man, grinning. “Ceiling lamp, actually. But good guess, Weasley.” The redhead chuckled.

“Close enough. But you really do need to stop hoping for a fatal accident to stop you from doing your job.”  
The girl shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? I get sympathising looks on a daily basis. It’s like I'm going into a war zone every morning.”   
Ron grinned slightly, his eyes lighting up, “are you denying that, Astoria? Anyway, how is Oh Princely One?”

Astoria’s phone let out a chime to signify a new message. She grimaced before even touching her phone, knowing what to expect.   
“If I didn’t know any better, he’s in his office, expecting his morning coffee.” She turned to the drinks machine while she pulled out her phone.   
“Black, two sugars, if I remember correctly.” She glanced at the screen of her phone, “Oh, he wants it _immediately_. Princey’s learning some big boy words.”

Ron snorted into his own coffee as the brunette girl chuckled to herself. As he wiped away the residue from his lip, he frowned, “How do you remember how he likes his coffee? Isn’t that sort of… stalkerish?”

Astoria rolled her eyes, “I have to make him coffee _every_ _morning_ , Ron. Do you honestly think I can afford to forget?”  
Ron nodded, solemnly, as the girl made her way upstairs to her office and to the man she essentially lived to serve.

* * *

 

As Astoria stepped through the neatly polished door into her office, she could almost _feel_ Malfoy’s power looming off him.   
She knocked on the door, awaiting his invitation, and rolled her eyes at the man’s utterance of “You may Enter”.

She stepped into the office, placing the cup on his desk.   
“Why were you not at your desk when I arrived?” He looked up at her, his piercing grey eyes boring through her. _Excellent, an interrogation. Just what I need at 8:00 in the bloody morning._ Astoria sighed, bowing her head slightly, “I apologise, sir. I just wished to be ready to make you your coffee when you arrived. I thought you would prefer faster service, sir.”   
The blonde nodded slowly, as if attempting to decipher the credibility of Astoria’s excuse. “Fine. But tomorrow I expect my coffee _in front of me_ exactly 2 minutes after I arrive at my desk. Understood?”

Astoria took out the small tablet from her bag, and began to write on the screen. “Anything else, _sir?_ ” The Brunette gritted her teeth as Malfoy sat up, a clear sign of an upcoming rant.

“I need a speech lined up for that charity event of Friday, make sure you make me sound like I care about the annoying sick children, I don’t want to seem _totally_ heartless.” Astoria held in a snort. _Oh no, imagine that. A heartless Draco Malfoy, mercy me.  
_ “Organise my files for that meeting I have at 12. I need everything in the right order so that the officials know how _devastatingly_ professional I am.” _God, yes, of course. Your wonderful organisational skills.  
_ Then I need you to book a flight for next week to New York. I need to visit a bank there to try and set up a partnership. After that, text Lavender. I’d like to meet up tonight. 8 o’clock. She’s always a bit of fun.” A nasty sneer spread across the blonde’s face as he sat down again, and Astoria inwardly grimaced. _Why am I stuck messaging his cheap shag? Isn’t that, well, his job?_

Malfoy leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as he raised a perfectly plucked, white-blonde eyebrow at her. _I bet all the women cry tears of fucking joy when they see the carpets match the drapes. Why is it that women dream of having blonde kids? Does it make them look richer?_ Astoria gave the man a quick glance up and down. _Well…_  
“I expect you to be done by 4pm. I need you back here so I can leave. Got that?”  
Astoria’s head snapped up. “You’re leaving early?”  
“Yes. That’s what I said, isn’t it? I have an architect in at 5:30 and Lavender at 8. Busy schedule, can’t be helped.”   
Astoria felt her heart leap. _That means I get to leave early, too! Oh, a night in with Delilah, a hot mug of earl grey, maybe a Disney film…_

“Don’t think that means a day off for you, A- Ar- Am-… Miss. You still have to do work for me.”  
The girl’s heart dropped. _Just my luck. That’ll be another late-nighter. Not to mention, after all these years of serving the prick, he still can’t remember my name._

“Yes, I have a special job set up for your afternoon.” _That can’t be good._

* * *

 

11:30 hit, and Astoria was once again ready for the ceiling to collapse in on her. She had already re-filed every one of Malfoy’s drawers, proof-read his presentation and re-written the worst parts, and started on his speech for the charity event. _It’s not even_ about _children!_

The woman was sat, attempting to hold in a lazy slump, at her desk, her laptop in front of her and Malfoy’s presentation notes beside her.   
“Are they ready? My notes?” The blonde man stepped out from his office, straightening his tie. “Yes, Mr Malfoy, sir. Proof-read and re-organised.”   
“Wonderful. Excellent job, uh…”  
“Astoria, sir.” The brunette gritted her teeth once again, “I’ve been your Personal Assistant for 6 Years…”  
Malfoy was still attempting to straighten his tie, “Really? Hardly even noticed. Time sure flies, eh Anthea?”  
“It’s Ast-“  
“You don’t have a mirror, do you? Blasted tie…” The woman paused for a moment before sighing to herself, long and drawn out in exasperation.   
“Hang on…” She stepped forward, quickly re-tying the expensive strip of blue fabric that probably cost more than her entire month’s salary.

As she stepped back, she may have caught a glimmer of a smile from the taller man. “Ah. Lovely. My hair okay?” The girl glanced up, “It’s tousled so pretentiously I may throw up.”  
“Just the reaction I was hoping for.” He smirked at her, letting her straighten out the collar of his perfectly tailored jacket. She even went so far as to wipe a drop of tea from his upper lip and slick back a stray strand of soft blonde hair. _The things I do for him…_

“I’ll be back from the meeting at 4. It’s a long one and everyone’s going to be making their own personal presentations. Mine is the most important, it’s about how we can get more money off our customers without them knowing.” He snickered, a dark glint in his eye as he checked the clock.

“11.45. Best be off. Thank you for your assistance, Annabelle.” He rushed out, grabbing his briefcase.   
“Its-”  
The door slammed behind him as the brunette girl sighed. “-Astoria…”

* * *

 

“Um… Astoria?”  
The girl in question looked up from her sandwich which, moments before, she had been devouring as if her life depended on it. “…Yes? Oh, hi Neville. Ron.”  
The two men sat next to her in the small Starbucks, where the three regularly met to share their lunch breaks. Astoria had made a run for it the moment it hit 2:30, resisting the urge to buy every piece of food available to buy.   
“Um… Hungry?” The redheaded man looked somewhat afraid at the ferocity with which she was eating.   
Astoria glared at him. “Ah,” He said, “angry eating.” The girl nodded quickly, taking a swig of her cappuccino.   
Neville chuckled slightly, “Rough day?”   
“Horrible. I had to straighten out his tie.”  
Ron gasped dramatically, “ _no!_ ”  
“I know! I had to touch his hair!” The two men gave her a worried look. “…It needed slicking back…”  
“Ohh…”   
“Is it as soft as it looks?” Ron and Astoria’s heads snapped to face Neville. “What? I always wondered…”  
Astoria let out a disgraced wail. “It was like baby hair… I think it’s slightly curly…!”  
“Oh, you poor thing…” Neville gave her a pitying look.  
“No wonder all the girls fancy him…” Ron shook his head in disgust, “Blonde prat…” Astoria nodded, “Blonde babies are all the rage…”

The girl opened her phone as she heard the chime of a new text message. The time read 3:15.  
“Bloody hell, he’s out of his meeting early.” Astoria groaned, “And he wants me in his office in 10 minutes. Brilliant.” She got up, downing the last dregs of her coffee.   
“I’ll see you, guys.” She grabbed her bag, running swiftly from the shop and leaving her pitying friends behind her.

* * *

 

She managed to reach the office in 8 minutes, giving her some time to catch her breath and straighten her hair and jacket.   
After she had gathered herself, Astoria stepped slowly and confidently through her office and into Malfoy’s, hoping to seem somewhat more professional.   
Knocking on the door, she quietly walked into the room, only to find the blonde standing and facing the window, staring out across the city.

“I hope you’re aware of why you’re here?” He spoke with a monotone, with less flirtatious vigour than usual.  
“I-I… I'm not sure I am, sir.” _Fuck! I stuttered!  
_ “You mixed up the papers.” Astoria frowned, “I… what-?”  
“ _You mixed up my papers!_ ” He turned, startling Astoria, and stepped towards her. She took a hesitant step back.  
“You mixed up my papers, the presentation for my meeting. You put the papers in the wrong order and messed up my speech. Are you even _aware_ of how _stupid_ I look now?”   
The girl trembled, “I-I… I didn’t know, sir! I'm sorry!”   
He glared at her, his silver eyes darkening. “You’re lucky I don’t fire you. You’re lucky I'm _lenient_ with you. I'm leaving earlier than expected, make sure my appointment with Lavender is made, got that?”

Astoria nodded, the rest of her body frozen, as Malfoy grabbed his coat and other belongings before walking out. When the door slammed behind him, she held in a scream of frustration.

* * *

 

She got an email from Malfoy at 5:00, telling her to check through his redundancy list and email those on it, then continue on his charity presentation. _That’s going to take hours!_ Astoria sighed, slumping at her desk. She was due to leave at 6:00, but that wouldn’t be happening now.  
She sat there, staring into blank space.

“Didn’t Ron say you need to stop contemplating death as a means of avoiding work?”  
Astoria’s head snapped up to see Neville standing in the doorway. Grinning, she nodded sheepishly. “Maybe?”  
Neville chuckled, “It’s not healthy, you know. Working so hard even when Malfoy’s not here to breathe down your neck.” The girl sighed.  
“I need to make sure he stays happy. If I work hard constantly, I may get a promotion. You know how much I need that money.” The man before her bowed his head slightly before moving to sit on the edge of her desk, turning to look at her.  
“Everyone respects you, you know. They all think you’re brilliant for putting up with him.” She chuckled slightly at that, “He can’t even remember my name.”  
“How long has it been again?” Neville raised an eyebrow.   
“6 years and…” she checked the date, “7 months.”  
“And he’s still calling you Amelia.” 

Astoria made a face, “Annabelle, today actually. And Anthea.” Neville rolled his eyes.   
“I remember when you first started working here. You were so young and bright-eyed… You kept blushing every time Malfoy came in the room.” He smirked.  
“Oh, bugger off,” Astoria grinned, “I was a poor little 18 year old who fancied my boss, it happened to everyone.”  
“ _I_ didn’t fancy him!” Neville looked scandalised.  
“You’re speaking in the past tense, Nev!” The girl snickered, “I still haven’t forgotten lunchtime… _’Is his hair as soft as it looks?’_ ” Neville’s face glowed red.  
“I was curious! And anyway, I’m _married!_ ”  
“So was Oscar Wilde.” Neville glared at her before reaching into his pocket, pulling out her phone. “You left this in Starbucks.”  
Astoria gasped, “Oh my god, Neville, _thank you!_ ” She grabbed it from him, cradling it like a new-born baby, “I’ve getting emails on my laptop and tablet, so I wasn’t thinking about calls!”   
He rolled his eyes again, shaking his head. “You haven’t changed much in 6 years and 7 months, Astoria.”  
She smiled softly, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.   
“Well, Malfoy certainly hasn’t, that’s for sure,” Astoria sighed disdainfully, “and I don’t think he ever will.”

* * *

 

The redundancy list wasn’t easy to get through; although she was lucky no one she was friendly with was there. Firing people was never her favourite job, and it hardly made her popular in some departments of the bank. But, she had to do it, as much as she may hate it.

It was 8:00 when Astoria finished her work and was ready to leave, but was stopped in her tracks as her phone rang, listed as an unknown number. She frowned as she looked at the screen, pressing ‘Accept’ and holding the phone to her ear. A few moments passed while she listened to the voice on the other end, before her face fell.

Grabbing her coat and the rest of her things, Astoria rushed from the office and through the rest of the building and managed to reach her car in 10 minutes flat.  
She sat in the driver’s seat and paused. _Why do I care so much? It’s not my job to care.  
_ Staring at the steering wheel, the girl contemplated just going straight home, pretending she never got the call. A minute passed before she swore to herself, turning on the engine and leaving in the direction of the hospital.  
 _Malfoy owes me big time._


	2. Chapter 2

There was a quiet murmur through the corridors as Astoria followed the nurse through the large, winding hospital. The loudest noise she could hear was the _click_ of her heels against the tiles. She had bought the shoes on a whim, when she had a rather generous pay rise a year ago.

“He’s in here.” Astoria jumped at the sudden utterance of the nurse in front of her, and followed the woman in. Despite the fact she hardly liked the man, Astoria’s breath caught in her throat when she saw Malfoy.

He had bandages covering almost his entire body, a large cast on his right arm. The bruises covering his face were a bright, obtrusive purple, and part of his cheek was badly swollen. The nurse cleared her throat.  
“H-He woke up a few minutes ago. He was very disorientated, but he’s just sleeping now. I’ll leave you two alone while I tell the doctor you’ve arrived. You’re his… Girlfriend?”  
Astoria blushed, “O-Oh! No, I-I’m his PA…” The nurse cringed in embarrassment as she apologised and walked out. Rolling her eyes, Astoria walked over to the seat next to Malfoy’s bed and sat down, further examining his injuries. There were bandages covering his eyes, and around his head. His hair had become matted and greasy with sweat.

A quiet groan alerted Astoria of Malfoy’s awakening.  
“W-where… am I…” His voice was cracked and broken like he hadn’t spoken in weeks. She took a deep breath.  
“You’re in hospital, sir.” He whimpered, the saddest sound she had heard the man make.  
“Who are you…?” his hand reached out and, cringing, she took it.  
“It’s Astoria, sir. Your Personal Assistant.” He let out a heavy sigh, one that sounded greatly like relief. “Thank god. You can explain to them, yes? That I need to leave? I have a busy lifestyle, you know. I can’t be missing potential working time.” His voice sounded panicky, but was glazed over with what she knew to be his ‘professional’ voice in an obvious attempt to sound a bit less terrified.  
It wasn’t working.

The doctor returned, knocking loudly before clearing his throat as he walked through the door, obviously expecting a heated and romantic reunion between two _darling_ lovers. _Why does everyone think we’re dating?!_ She glanced at Malfoy, then to their interlocked hands. She quickly pulled her hand from his. _Urgh. Private school boy germs._

She stood up, smiling and walking over to the doctor. The man smiled at her, taking her hand and shaking it.  
“Hi there, I’m Dr MacMillan. I’ll be caring for Mr Malfoy while he’s here. I assume you’re Astoria Greengrass? You were listed as an emergency contact on all of Mr Malfoy’s files, and his phone.” _Shit! I forgot about that!_  
Astoria nodded, “Ah, yes. I’m his PA. No more.” Dr Macmillan raised his eyebrows at that, but she continued nonetheless.  
“So what’s the problem? What actually _happened_?”

The doctor sighed. “Car Crash. Mr Malfoy was driving along, and a guy skipped a red light and went straight into the side of his car. The bottom half of his body is fine, except for a couple fractured toes, but his right arm is broken at the shoulder, elbow and wrist. His ribs are bruised quite badly, but the pain will be gone in a matter of weeks. No damage to any vital organs, except…” he paused, wincing slightly.  
Astoria frowned, “except..?”  
Dr MacMillan put a hand on her shoulder, and gently guided her out of the room. Standing outside the door, she turned to him.  
“What’s going on?”  
Dr MacMillan sighed deeply. “There was a lot of damage to his brain. Luckily, there won’t be any permanent psychological damage, but there was some damage to the Occipital lobe…” _I don’t like where this is going…_

“I'm afraid to tell you, that Mr Malfoy’s sight has been permanently damaged… He’s been left blind in both eyes. Seeing as he has no next of kin, and as you are the closest he has to that, it seems that we will have to ask you to take him into your care for a while. It’s just until he’s ready to work again, as the shock will be very difficult for him to get over.”

Astoria’s face fell. “I-…I understand, Doctor. Does he know?” She nodded to the door. Dr MacMillan shook his head.  
“Would you rather me tell him, Miss Greengrass?” She sighed deeply, her body still aching from stress.  
“No, thank you, Doctor. I’ll talk to him. When do you think he’ll be ready for dismissal?”  
“Oh, it should only be a week. Then we can plaster his arm and he can be sent home. I do apologise for making you look after him on such short notice. I understand from his reputation that he can be somewhat… abrasive?”  
Astoria chuckled, “That’s one word you could use to describe him. Thank you again, Doctor.”

* * *

 

Draco awoke to total darkness.

He could hear the gentle whir of machinery, smell the strong stench of cleaning products, and feel what felt a little like a bodybuilder repeatedly hitting his head with a sledgehammer.  
The Hospital, then.

All he could remember was a flash of light, a crash, and sudden darkness.

He had heard his PA talking to the doctor after she had let go of his hand. _Why did I grab her hand? God, I'm weak. What an idiot._ He didn’t know what was wrong, but he didn’t think he would like the outcome.  
The door opened again, and he turned his head to the sound.

“It’s me…”  
 _Ah, wonderful. The PA. What’s her name again? Never mind.  
_ He heard the click of her heels as she walked towards him, and the screech of chair legs scraping against tiled floor as she sat down. She let out a deep breath.

“I’ve been talking to your doctor… he says that the car crash didn’t injure-…” _ah, a car crash. Now I remember. It wasn’t my fault for once._ “…-of your body. You bruised a couple ribs and broke your arm in three places, but you didn’t-…” _that will be the cause of the pain in my arm and chest. Very helpful. Well done, Aurora. That is her name, isn’t it? or is it Amy? Bugger, didn’t she say she’s been working for me for … 7? Was it 7 years? Or 5? Ah well, doesn’t bother me._ “…-damaged your Occipital lobe -…” _oh shit, I was meant to meet Lavender tonight, wasn’t I? I went out for a bottle of wine and then that bastard-_

“Are you actually listening to me?” He could almost _feel_ the annoyance in her voice.  
“Uh… what was that last bit?” Draco cringed. _Woops.  
_ “Part of your brain was damaged in the crash. You’ve been left blind. Permanently.”

Draco’s heart fell to his stomach. _Blind…? But… what about work? I need to see! I need to!_  
The PA sighed. “I have to stay with you, after you’ve been discharged from the hospital. You don’t have any next of kin, so I have to look after you while you’re not at work-“  
“What do you mean, not at work?” Draco sat up at that.  
“I mean exactly that. You can’t go back to work like this, don’t be ridiculous.”  
“But I need to work! It’s my life! I need to be at that bank!” The girl sighed.  
“Please don’t make this harder, sir.”

This wasn’t right. This was some sick joke. _I can’t be blind! Jesus, no! I wasn’t ready! I can’t live like this!  
_ Draco curled slightly, feeling tears spring to his eyes.  
 _Please, no._

* * *

 

Astoria watched as the man before her sat, slowly dissolving into himself. The shock was already too much for the poor sod to bear. She watched as angry, reluctant tears fell from his eyes, the man nearly pulling his hair out in frustration.  
 _Jesus, I can’t blame him. I’d hate to be in his position._

He cried out occasionally, in short and sharp bursts as if shot by several invisible bullets. He rocked slightly in his seat, his breathing deep and panicked. _Fuck…_  
She leaned forward, resting her hand on his back. She felt the muscles tense slightly at the contact, and took a deep breath as she held his hand once more.

“Sir…? I need you to listen to me. Just take long, deep breaths, okay? Because you’re panicking, and you need to calm down…”  
The man whimpered, but nodded slowly, following Astoria’s instructions. She took a moment to watch him, a ghost of his old self. As much as she hated his former self, it pained her to see the confident, self-righteous prick so small and helpless.  
 _Maybe helping him isn’t such a bad idea…_

* * *

 

Astoria finally left the hospital at 9:00 that night. She had been stuck there signing papers and trying to comfort Malfoy to entire night, so it was easy to say she was exhausted. When she had finally made it out of the dull building, rushing to her car and almost throwing herself into the driver’s seat, she was near-enough ready to sleep in the car park.

She was sat, once again, staring at the steering wheel of her car, trying to vaguely understand what was going on. Only mere hours before, she had been thinking about sitting in her comfy flat and falling asleep to _Bambi_ , and then the quickest call had decided to come along and turn her life upside-down.  
Sighing deeply, she turned on the engine and slowly made her way home.

When she arrived home, she could only see two mops of flaming red hair on her sofa. Chuckling, she walked over and quickly shook the man’s shoulder.  
“Ron, I’m home…?”  
The man jumped, nearly waking up the small girl beside him, and groaned tiredly.  
“Oh, hi… Sorry, we were reading and…” He gave a loud yawn “Rose fell asleep, so I did too.” He stood up, quickly pulling a blanket over his young daughter, and stretched.  
“So, what happened?”

After Astoria had finished explaining the entire situation, Ron let out a long whistle.  
“So, in short, you have to be Malfoy’s play-pretend wife until he gets used to being blind.” Wanting to object, but not finding any particular reason why anything the taller man had said was wrong, Astoria groaned.  
“Essentially. I have to stay at his place and everything.”  
“That might be nice.” Astoria sent him an unimpressed look.  
“Hey, hear me out! All I mean is; he’s rich, he’s single, he’s got no family, and you’re the only person to help. This could mean _promotion,_ Astoria. This could mean a _raise,_ or even just Malfoy knowing your name! This is total respect, imagine it!”  
When she thought about it, Ron was right. This _would_ mean respect, this would mean _money_.  
She shook her head. _I’m too exhausted to be thinking about things like this…_

“Daddy…?” The two looked up to see Rose, blanket clutched in her hand, standing in the doorway. Her flame-red hair, which was a mess of frizzy curls _normally_ , was sticking out at all angles from her fidgety sleeping habits. Ron smiled slightly and picked her up, making her giggle. Having a 6’6” dad was probably like having a personal fairground ride to Rose. The 3 year old grinned at Astoria, waving slightly, and the brunette waved back.  
“Why did you bring her?”  
“Hermione’s on the other side of London at the moment, so she couldn’t look after her while I was here. I don’t mind, Rosie likes it here. Well, she likes Delilah, mostly.”  
Astoria chuckled slightly.  
“Well, thanks for coming, Ron. I really appreciate you house-sitting for me on such short notice.”  
“Happy to help.” He smiled, giving her a one-armed hug, and grabbed the remainder of him and Rose’s things before making his way out of the cosy London flat.

As she sat at the breakfast bar, nursing a scorching hot mug of Earl Grey, Astoria whined tiredly. _I am not ready for this!_

* * *

 

It was a week later when Astoria returned to the hospital to collect Malfoy. She had spent the past week attempting to calm everyone down, re-organising events and meetings, explaining about 57 times what had _actually_ happened, and had to eventually send round a full-staff email requesting people to stop sending sympathy cards to her. Neville and Ron jokingly asking if they should be wearing black had been the last straw.  
And now, here she was, about to spend the next few weeks, maybe even months, with a man who could barely remember her name after 6 years of service. _Wonderful._

Once she arrived inside the hospital, Dr MacMillan had her sign all the dismissal papers necessary, despite the fact that she would much rather let them dump him in the general waste disposal.  
They had managed to get Malfoy into the wheelchair, no matter how reluctant he was being, and in the end had been much keener on leaving the hospital (even though his method of departure and his current state of health were not ideal).  
She had even managed to cope with the blonde complaining loudly about ‘poor service’ and ‘terrible conditions’, which had succeeded in making 4 patients swiftly leave the building just minutes later.  
Helping him into the passenger’s seat, she had even resisted slapping him at his loud complaint of ‘I can’t even _see_ the car and I can tell its shit!’.  
Now, driving along quietly through the winding streets of North London, and occasionally glancing over at Malfoy to see him calmly asleep, Astoria had a moment of sudden realisation. An epiphany, you could call it.

Although, _I am going to murder him in his sleep before he even goes back to work,_ is not the most ideal epiphany to have, to say the least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit I forgot to add this chapter I'm so sorry

Astoria stood outside Draco Malfoy’s house, if you could call it that, holding in a gasp that would prolong itself on her lips until Malfoy finally called from the car.  
“Are you _actually_ going to help me at all, or are you just going to stand about wasting your pay-cheque?”  
Blinking and nodding, before realising he couldn’t actually see her, she went over to him and slowly helped the blonde out of the car and into the wheelchair.

Stepping through the doors of the somewhat intimidating house could be named as one of the most terrifying moments of Astoria’s life, not only due to the fact it was so unimaginably huge, but also because the housekeeper almost immediately made her way over to the two, rushing out past the confused PA. Astoria turned to the woman, Mary, who was only a few years older than herself. She had known the small woman since Astoria had started working for Malfoy, but the former had never kept in contact, much to Astoria’s dismay.  
“I can’t take it anymore. I simply can’t.” She sounded desperate, yet her words were spoken with great finality. Her wispy, dirty blonde hair was messy, as if she had been pulling at it repeatedly in stress.  
“I wish you luck, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.” And with that, the blonde turned away from the two and ran to the street, hailing a taxi with only her suitcase and, what Astoria could safely say was, her dignity.

Draco cleared his throat, obviously desiring more attention than he was getting. “Who was that, then?” Astoria sighed, “Your housekeeper, sir. She just left.”  
“Left? Ridiculous. When will she be back?”  
Astoria shut the door behind her as she pushed the blonde through the hall towards the stairway. “She won’t be coming back, Mr Malfoy. She quit.”  
A small silence followed. “Ah. Well… Why? I paid her well!”  
“As far as I’m aware, Mr Malfoy, you’ve forgotten to pay her two months in a row. She left, correct me if I’m wrong, because she couldn’t stand working for you any longer.”

Another silence followed. Malfoy didn’t answer her statement.  
As Astoria helped the man up the stairs, a difficult task considering the fact the he weighed a great deal more than her, and the fact that he was in a wheelchair as well, a thought struck her. _Now that the housekeeper’s gone, who will do her job? Is Malfoy not worried about that? Wait a second-_

“I hope you’re aware that, now that no one is here to do the housekeeping, it will be your new job to keep this house in order?” _Fucking Brilliant.  
_ “Of course, Mr Malfoy.”

* * *

 

His bedroom was grand, much like the rest of his house. However, there were a few differences. The walls of his bedroom were a crisp duck-egg blue, as opposed to the gentle cream of the rest of the rooms she had seen. The furniture in the bedroom was older, and slightly mismatched, as if he had accumulated antiques and knick-knacks over the years and perhaps had no appropriate place to put them. Astoria considered for a moment whether or not he perhaps chose to place these vintage oddities in the bedroom because he preferred his guests not to see them (he seemed like the type to be too proud to show interest in anything unfashionable), or maybe because they were that much more personal to him, that he preferred to keep them in a less public room. Another difference she noticed was the sudden change in the subjects shown in the photographs that were previewed around the surfaces. In the living room, hallway and the along the long, winding staircase, the photos framed across the walls were images of Malfoy shaking hands with business partners, heads of important companies and other banks, photos of him accepting awards and giving speeches. Yet somehow, the photos displayed around his room were so much more… personal. There was a picture of his graduation from University, standing proudly next to his parents. Astoria noticed- with a somewhat undesired annoyance- that the good looks were definitely genetic. Near to that was a picture of what was, undoubtedly, his prom. The girl standing next to him had a smirk stretching across her face, she obviously had beaten several girls to be standing next to him- she had an arguably pretty face (arguably meaning that her nose was ever-so-slightly too upturned to be considered ‘cute’) which was framed by jet-black hair cut into a short bob. Her round, grey-green eyes held almost as much love for being noticed as Malfoy’s did, and she had a half-perfect figure held in a posture that clearly read ‘I’m better than you’. Draco Malfoy had hardly changed since he was a teenager- the same white-blonde hair and piercing ice-grey eyes, and a slim, lightly-muscled body covered in a perfectly fitted grey-blue suit which looked like it cost more than her life’s worth. _Ergh. Rich People._

Going to the wardrobe, grand and considerably bigger than her car, she eventually managed to find pyjamas for Malfoy. Then, as the saying goes, came the tricky part. Taking off and replacing the man’s clothes would prove to be hard enough, simply considering his injuries. However, if you then considered the man’s… personality, so to speak, the situation suddenly becomes a great deal more frustrating.

“Please _,_ sir, it won’t take a moment!”  
“Bugger off, there is _no_ way I am letting you shamelessly strip me!”  
“ _Shamelessly?!_ Let me make one thing clear, Mr Malfoy, sir. This is the last thing I want to be doing with my Friday evening!” _Not to mention that I’d feel pretty damn ashamed if anyone saw me like this.  
_ “I am _perfectly_ capable of dressing myself, thank you very much! My hand is still okay- I am not about to lose my independence to _you_.”  
Astoria had been about to tell Malfoy _exactly_ where he could stick his ‘still okay’ hand, when the doorbell rang.

 _Jesus Christ, could he possibly acquire a_ more _in-your-face doorbell chime?  
_ She quickly moved down the long staircase, nearly running to the door. Pasting a smile onto her face, she pulled open the door, but the smile soon fell.

The girl was blonde, but she was such a glowing shade of blonde that Astoria almost had to consider for a moment whether or not that was the girl’s natural hair colour. It was also curled to such a high extent that the brunette once again was forced to consider whether it naturally fell in that state. Her makeup looked as if the girl had tried to go for the ‘oh-don’t-be-silly-sweetie-I’m-not-wearing-any-makeup-oh-my-goodness-you- _do_ -flatter-me’ look, but had in fact ended up with a sort of ‘what-are-you-talking-about-I’m-not-a-prostitute-but-I’d-be-happy-to-oblige’ look. Looking her up and down, Astoria noticed that the same effect had been achieved with her chosen outfit. It hardly left much to the imagination, and Astoria thought with a smirk that she’d have to leave the entire display to Malfoy’s.

She had never met the girl, but she’d seen enough pictures and heard enough rumours to get a pretty good idea.  
“What do you want, Lavender?”  
She looked somewhat taken-aback. “How did you know my name?”  
“Lucky guess. Malfoy isn’t able to see you right now, he’s a little…tied up, at the moment.”  
“Why’s that?” It was a normal enough request, but due to Astoria’s resentment of Lavender’s tone, she became agitated.  
“Oh, nothing major. He just got himself into a car crash last week and lost his eyesight. No biggie.” Astoria had been expecting a more… _animated_ reaction from Lavender, to say the least.  
“Oh… So… Who’re you then? His _girlfriend?_ ” Astoria rolled her eyes.  
“Miss Brown, if I were Malfoy’s girlfriend, and knew who you were, don’t you think I would have taken it upon myself to slap you a little _earlier_ , perhaps?”  
The blonde girl snorted, an almost pleasant sound compared to the shrill whine of her normal voice.  
Astoria, in all honesty, would absolutely _love_ to give the woman in front of her a good slap around the face, but didn’t want to risk a lawsuit for messing up her makeup. However, she took great joy in smiling sweetly at Lavender, slowly shutting the door and saying:  
“Your services won’t be required any longer, Miss Brown.”

* * *

 

Astoria walked back upstairs, her body now distorted into an exhausted slump. She stopped only outside Malfoy’s bedroom, frowning at the noises coming from it.  
“Fuck- come on… damn thing… Now, where’s my shirt…”  
Snickering, Astoria slowly opened the door, only to find Malfoy, his t-shirt half stuck over his head, struggling to get the sleeve over his cast.  
“Shit… you can do this, Draco…!” He, in all honestly, wasn’t helping himself whatsoever.  
“Do you… erm, need some help, sir?” The man cried out slightly in surprise, but regained himself quickly.  
“N-no, thank you. I’ll be fine. I just seem to have, um… hit a slight speed bump.” Chuckling, Astoria walked over to him, tugging at the troublesome sleeve and pulling the t-shirt off. Then, she quickly helped him into the cotton pyjama shirt- he was still arguing despite obviously finding it far easier being assisted.

Pulling off his trousers proved to be much easier, as they were only a loose pair of tracksuit bottoms that Astoria deemed appropriate for him to wear out of hospital. Astoria could hardly care about the fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, she merely found it as an advantage, due to the fact it meant there were far less items of clothing to pull over his bad leg. The blonde continued to grumble as his pyjama bottoms were pulled on, making a comment about ‘ _control freaks_ ’ and ‘ _overbearing women’_.

After managing to wrestle the blonde into his (unnecessarily large) bed, Astoria decided that the best option would be to sit down, read a book, and mourn the loss of whatever social life that she had left.

* * *

 

 _Why is it so dark?_  
Why can’t I see?  
Am I dreaming?  
Is this a nightmare?  
I think my eyes are open… I-I’m sure of it…  
Please don’t let today be real…

_I want to go home_

Draco Malfoy cried out, his heart thumping. _Shit… It wasn’t a nightmare, was it? I might as well be dead, Jesus… Oh god, I’ll be a failure. I won’t be able to work again, I’m doomed to live in poverty… They’ll take away my house, my clothes, my belongings… They’ve already got my car, written it off… What am I going to do…?_

He felt hot tears roll down his cheeks as he moved a hand up to clutch at his hair.  
 _This is it.  
The end of my life._

* * *

 

It was around 6 o’clock in the morning when Astoria was awoken by Malfoy’s cries. Running into the room, she found the man attempting to curl into a make-shift blanket cocoon, his main drawback being his injured arm and leg. Sighing, Astoria walked over to him and sat on the side of the bed. There was a sharp intake of breath from under the mound of blankets before a gentle trembling shook the bed slightly.

“Sir?” Astoria pulled the blankets away from the man’s face, preferring to reduce the possibility of Malfoy suffocating himself.  
His hair was sticking in all directions, and there were dark circles under his puffy, red eyes. There were wet patches on her cheeks and, for the first time in a week, she felt genuinely sorry for him. Astoria moved her hand to gently stroke his hair and felt him flinch slightly.

 _This isn’t going to be easy…_ Astoria sighed. In all honesty, she couldn’t blame the poor sod, she would have had a mental breakdown far earlier than this if she was in his shoes.

After a few minutes of stroking the man’s hair, he slowly relaxed against her hand, his sobbing turning slowly into a gentle, broken whimper. The trembling ceased ever so slightly, and the breathing slowed to a regular pace.

Sighing, Astoria hoped that this meant the blonde had fallen asleep again, but when she woke up was met with a hand gripping her wrist. She turned to Malfoy and frowned.  
His eyes were still red, and the areas around them still slightly swollen from crying, but his expression showed something… deeper. He seemed drowsy, but somewhat more serious. He reminded Astoria of the ‘Intellectual’ drunk people who you sometimes find at parties who seem so incredibly sober and aware of their surroundings, you wouldn’t believe they were drunk if you had not previously seen them down a whole bottle of vodka in one go. Despite the fact the he wasn’t staring directly at her, she still felt as if his piercing grey eyes were staring into her soul.

“Why… are you being so nice to me?” Astoria frowned, hardly able to answer the question. This was because  
a) the question was an _extremely_ un-Malfoy thing to ask  
b) she didn’t quite know why she was being so nice to him either  
c) it was too early in the morning to be answering questions so it took her a moment to understand what he had said

She paused for a little longer, but soon stood up straight and sighed.  
“Because I’m hoping you’ll be nice in return.”

As soon as she felt the hand loosen around her wrist, she quickly left the room. After she had closed the door and was back in her own temporary bed, she stared sadly at the ceiling.

_He won’t remember a thing in the morning._

* * *

She was right. Astoria couldn’t say she was surprised, to say the least, but it didn’t stop her from feeling a little bit disappointed that the older man had not remembered her comforting him the previous night.

Helping him change was certainly a chore (once again, she wasn’t really surprised), but she managed to get it over and done with quicker due to the man’s slight grogginess.

The next day went by seemingly without incident, if you took out the several arguments, the 3 broken plates, and Astoria having to clean the food that she had oh-so-graciously cooked off the walls.

It could be quite easily said from this that Draco Malfoy was, ironically, not one to be looked after. He refused point—blank to listen to Astoria, no matter how reasonable she was being.

“ _Please_ , sir. You _need_ to eat something, the doctor says you can’t take any painkillers without getting some nutrition first!”  
“I said no, Arianna! Jesus Christ, learn your place!”  
Astoria stopped, her breath hitching.  
 _Don’t lose it, don’t lose it…_ Placing the soup bowl she had been holding down, she slowly grabbed her phone and walked out of the room.

* * *

 

Draco struggled with the wheelchair, but he could still handle it alone… Maybe.

Apologies were not something Draco was used to giving, and today was certainly not going to be his first day giving one.  
 _Shit… Now I’m hungry. Fucking brilliant._ It took a few tries but, with determination and quite a few clumsy crashes into walls and various pieces of furniture, he eventually made it out from the kitchen and into the hall.

His micro-celebration was cut short, however, when he heard a voice coming from what he could gauge was the study. Attempting not to make much noise, Draco followed the sound of the voice, until he eventually came to the realisation that the only person it could be was his PA.

“Honestly, Neville, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this much longer… It’s only been a day and I feel so… sick of it. I mean, yeah, I was sick of him anyway, but living with him is like living with Hitler! He just doesn’t care about anyone who tries to help him.”

Draco felt something like a stab to his chest, yet he could only register it as something that hurt so much more.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I thought there was a chance of him changing as well, but it seems like that idea’s out the window. …” Another stab.  
“He’s a prat, I get that, but does he have to make it so blaringly obvious that he is? He could at _least_ try to _hide_ it. …” And another.  
“God, even _Hannah_ said that? Good lord, if your wife is calling him names like that, it’s amazing the Leaky Cauldron doesn’t start a revolt against him, all in order to protect their beloved landlady’s husband and co-workers.” She chuckled, and Draco could almost feel the metaphorical blood dripping down his abdomen.

“Yeah, Hermione hates him too, I think that’s one of her and Ron’s main reasons for getting married- to just live together and complain about Malfoy… Well he _did_ bully her in secondary school… something about the fact that she didn’t come from a rich, upper class family… I know, she’s _far_ smarter than the blonde prick… Probably why Ron hates him even more… Yeah, he made his life a misery as well… Didn’t Malfoy make jokes about Ron being poor for, like, _years_ before he got made CEO?”

Unable to listen to anymore, Draco pulled himself from the doorway and slowly rolled back into the kitchen. He listened to the muffled sound of the PA’s voice speak for a few more minutes before silence befell the house once more.

“Mr Malfoy? Are you okay, you look like death…” He jumped, having not heard her walk in.  
“Hm? Ah, yes. I- I’m fine. Don’t feel well.” His voice sounded odd, hoarse, as if it wasn’t his anymore.  
“And whose fault is that?” the girl sighed, sounding exasperated, “hang on, sir, I’ll get you the soup and pain killers.”

As Draco listened to her prepare his meal, he felt a slight twinge of something in his heart that he had never felt before. He tried to pinpoint it, to recognise it, but upon failure simply pushed it to the back of his mind, hoping it wouldn’t be felt again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment and tell me what you think!!  
> I'd really appreciate it!!


	4. Chapter 4

The following weeks proved to be difficult for both Astoria and Malfoy. For Astoria, it was due to the fact that she had to take care of a self-centred prick who didn’t understand that she was trying to help, and for Malfoy it was because- for once- someone didn’t listen to him.

However, Astoria soon got used to the arguments they would have, and their morning routine soon looked a little something like this:

9:00- Wake Malfoy up  
9:15- Wake Malfoy up again  
9:30- Drag him out of bed  
9:35- Argue with him about what clothes he should wear  
9:40- Watch in amazement at Malfoy trying to dress himself, and failing tremendously  
9:50- Dress him, learn several new insults and swear words (which are not suitable for publishing)  
10:00- Make Malfoy breakfast  
10:05- Argue with him about making breakfast  
10:10- Force-feed him his breakfast  
10:20- Force-feed him his medication  
10:30- Sit him down with an audio-book and a cup of tea

And, following that, Astoria would simply give him his medication when necessary and then do all his work for him. She often went home during the week, hopefully once a day, usually not. She managed to force Ron and Neville to go and house-sit for her after work or on weekends. However, with Ron and Hermione recently announcing that they were expecting another baby, Neville seemed to have drawn the short straw which had resulted in his almost daily visits to her home.

Astoria deeply accepted the kindness given to her by her friends, but was slightly annoyed at the realisation that this meant she would have to stay longer at Malfoy’s home.

She often hoped he’d stay quiet long enough for her headache to recede.

Oddly enough, he never did.

* * *

 

It was about 12 o’clock when it started.

“Did you move that conference forward to the 20th?”  
“Of course, Mr Malfoy. Your business associates have been informed.”  
“Did you arrange that meeting with Mr Nott about the fundraiser?”  
“Yes sir, 11 o’clock on the 23rd of June.”  
“Did you finish the laundry?”  
“ _Yes_ , Mr Malfoy. I’ve done _everything_ you asked me to. _It’s my job_.”  
“Oh. Well. Fine then.”

Merely five minutes had passed before he opened his mouth again. Astoria’s snapped towards him.   
“ _What?_ ” She spat out the word, feeling her eyes narrow.  
Despite the fact he couldn’t see her, he jumped back, sinking into his chair.   
“I… The book finished…” He pointed in the general direction of his lap and, by intention, the iPad that his audiobook was playing off.

“Oh.” Astoria flushed, standing up. “My apologies. One moment, sir.”

* * *

 

It was after she made him his lunch, about 2 hours later, that he spoke up once more.  
“Alice.” She sighed, trying to not let it get to her.  
“It’s Astoria. What can I do for you, sir?”

He was facing his lap, fidgeting slightly in his wheelchair. He was frowning slightly, as if he was having a hard time wording his response.  
“How is it you know so much about me?”

Now, _that_ certainly caught her off guard.   
“What do you mean, sir?” She sat down opposite him, watching him carefully.  
“It’s merely that whenever I ask you something, you know the answer. You know facts about me that even _I_ am not aware of.”  
Astoria chuckled, expecting him to be joking, but his face remained serious.

“Well, sir… I’ve been working for you for so long, I sort of just… picked it all up along the way.”

* * *

 

 _That_ certainly caught Draco by surprise. Picked it up along the way?

“What… What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Draco paused, “Have you been stalking me?”  
There was a light chuckle from in front of him, and he struggled to comprehend what that meant. Was she laughing at him?

“No, sir, I haven’t been stalking you. I’ve worked for you for 6 years, I feel that’s enough time to get to know someone, yes?”   
_Oh, fuck._ “6 years, you say?” He gave an awkwardly pronounced chuckle, “My, has it been that long… Time sure flies…” His voice drifted off slightly towards the end of the sentence.

She sighed, and he was sure she had rolled her eyes at him. He heard a squeak from her chair, a common occurrence from someone leaning back in it.   
“Sir, you don’t _need_ to lie to me, I know you forgot. You can’t even remember my name.” She chuckled again, but this time Draco felt it sounded… sadder.   
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, of _course_ I remember your name-…” He paused.

 _Come on Malfoy, you_ know _this one! … Shit._

“Er…”  
“Its Astoria, Sir.” Her voice sounded taught, as if she had repeated the sentence several times before.  
“I… I knew that.”  
“Of course, sir.” She still sounded the same way, like an elastic band pulled a little less than it needed to snap.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two, which mainly consisted of Draco attempting to make the conversation a little less embarrassing for himself.

“So. You, uh. You _say_ you know everything about me. But, um, how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Draco tried to sound natural, but he knew it wasn’t working.

He heard the characteristic screech of chair leg against floor tile, and thought for a moment if he had offended her. There was a sharp intake of breath from across the room.

“Your full name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. You’re 28 years old, born on 1st June to Lucius and Narcissa. You went to Slytherin Boarding School in Wiltshire, where you lived until your 18th Birthday. You then moved to London to study Business and Finance on a double Major with Law at UCL. Anything else?”

She sounded as calm as if she had simply recited the alphabet.   
“I- I… How did you-”  
“Six years, Mr Malfoy. Six Years.”

Taking it as a challenge, Draco spoke up again.  
“Fine then, if you insist on acting as if you’re _so_ smart. What’s my favourite film?” She didn’t miss a beat.  
“You tell everyone that its ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’, when in reality you love ‘The Piano’ more.”

_Dammit. I thought I kept that a secret._

“My favourite Album?”  
“X by Ed Sheeran. You think he’s a visionary.”

“My most hated childhood memory?”  
“When you spent two weeks at your youngest aunt’s house when you were 4, and your cousin decided that she was going to put you in her dresses. You cried for your parents and hoped they would help you, but your mum just giggled and took photos. She shows them to you every time you go home.” Draco felt his cheeks heat up. _How does she_ know _this stuff?!_

“Any siblings?”  
“You have a younger sister, Aries. She’s currently 20, but your family haven’t spoken to her since she was 16 and ran away from home. Your parents tell people you’re an only child.”

Draco cringed. Fuck, she knew how to cut into a guy.

“My favourite food?”  
“That, I’m not sure of. But you did say last week that the lasagne I made for you was ‘Heaven on Earth’ when you thought I wasn’t listening.”

 _She_ made _that? Good lord, it was incredible._

“What colour underwear am I wearing?”  
She snorted a little in laughter.  
“Sir, _you_ don’t even know that!” Draco flushed. _My god, she’s right._

“They’re blue, if you were wondering.” He heard footsteps moving around him and, a moment later, the kettle starting to boil.

He sighed, knowing that if he asked any more, she’d still know the answer, no matter how obscure.

* * *

 

It was about 5 o’clock when Astoria made Malfoy dinner.

He, as usual, moaned into it when he thought she had walked out of the room, and had blushed and spluttered when she made him aware that she was still there. She had to notice, with a chuckle, that he did act an awful lot nicer when caught off guard.

Her phone beeped with the sound of a new email, and Draco’s hand automatically flickered towards his pocket. Upon realising what he had done, he frowned slightly in what Astoria deemed as confusion and slight upset, turning back to his dinner.

Her email inbox was a lot fuller recently, mainly because of all of Malfoy’s emails being directed to her instead. Her most recent, however, was from his doctor. Reading it to herself, she sighed.

“Doctor Macmillan wants you to go in for a checkup. He says he thinks you might be ready for crutches if your toes and ribs have healed okay.”

Malfoy sighed in relief.   
“Thank _god_. I’m getting sick of this bloody wheelchair.” Astoria rolled her eyes.  
“You _are_ aware that being up and walking will be a lot harder than just rolling around in a chair, sir?”  
“ _Of course_ I am. What do you take me for, an idiot?” He narrowed his eyes at the wall in front of him, which was in the completely wrong direction to Astoria, but she still felt the heat of the glare.

“I _just meant_ it would be more difficult in regards to your...” She waved her hands slightly, awkwardly looking around the room as if the safest words to say were written on the walls, “your current… ‘sight’ situation.”

And, as quickly and fluidly as if someone had pulled it down with a piece of string, his face fell. She knew that he had somehow forgotten that his sight would not heal as soon as he was out of the wheelchair. Astoria had to admit, with a slight grimace, that she had as well.

The blonde looked crestfallen, and the aura that was seeping off him was enough to bring Astoria down as well. Deep down, there was a complete and utter confusion unto herself as to why she felt bad for him, considering all the misery he had caused her after all these years, but she repressed it. Wanting to at least bring his mood up a little, she suggested the one thing she knew might help.

“Um, sir? So… I managed to find some Disney films that have audio description, if you’d be interested…”

His reaction was almost as sudden as his last. His head snapped up slightly, and he looked as though he was attempting to hide some sort of childlike awe.

“Which…” His voice came out slightly high-pitched with the quickness with which he began speaking, and upon realising he quickly cleared his throat and deepened his voice unnaturally.

“Which films are they, exactly?”  
Astoria smirked in amusement and slight disbelief. _Men._

“Wreck-It Ralph, Brave and Big Hero 6.”  
“That’s… That’s the newest one, right?”  
“Sure is.”  
“Can we watch that first?” He tried to sound dignified, but in all honesty, he sounded just as excited as he looked. He didn’t smile, but his eyes lit up like a child being taken to the zoo for the first time.  
“Of course, sir.”

* * *

 

If someone had told Astoria, when she started working as a PA, that she would be lounging on the sofa of a £27m London town house (she checked) with her boss, watching Disney films and eating ice-cream from the tub, she would have openly laughed in their face and told them to seek professional help.

But here she was, feeling richer than she ever had while singing along to Fall Out Boy and eating Cookie Dough ice-cream. _Incredible._

When Brave had finished, about 13 minutes past midnight, Astoria turned to Malfoy, who seemed to have enjoyed the two films almost more as she had, despite hardly making a noise throughout them. (She would never admit to him that she _did_ hear him chuckle at nearly every joke, however.)

“Sir?”  
“Yes?” His professional voice was back.   
_For the love of-_  
“May I ask why you were willing to watch Disney films with me?”  
“A grown man is allowed to watch animated movies, Aria. Your cruel judgement is unappreciated.”  
“Yes, that’s true, but you hardly ever seemed the type to… relax, I suppose.”

He paused for a moment, and Astoria guessed that he was thinking of a dignified response.

“I thought that I may as well spend a night watching things like this. I’m going to be up working soon anyway, and my parents have certainly been pushing lately…”  
“Pushing what?” She frowned, cocking her head slightly to the side, despite knowing he couldn’t see her.  
“Surely you, she who knows _everything_ about my life, should be able to guess that one? I’m young, I’m handsome, I own a massive company, and I’m _single_.”  
“Ah,” Astoria said. _Kids._

“Exactly. All they want from me is to get married to a pretty girl and have a pretty son who can take over my company when I’m dead, and to inherit their fortune. Nothing more, nothing less.”  
 _Yikes. That doesn’t sound like an ideal situation. No wonder he’s a grumpy piece of shit all the time._

But, once again, she needed answers from him. _It’s late, he’s tired, and his painkillers are probably driving him nuts. He’ll probably tell me anything._

“Why are you telling me all of this?”  
He turned his head slightly towards her, trying to source her a little easier.   
“You already know this much about me, I suppose. You’ve been working for me for this long, haven’t you? What’s the harm in me spouting my problems to you?”

Astoria couldn’t help but feel slightly flattered at his response. But as they continued with their movie marathon, she couldn’t help but feel slightly distracted at the thought that the way he was acting would disappear eventually, and they would go back to the way they were. What would happen when he didn’t need her anymore?

She shook the feeling off, knowing that if she ever told her friends, they’d tell her to visit the doctor to see if _she_ had brain damage as well.

* * *

 

Despite how tired they both were, she had forced herself to half-drag Malfoy upstairs to his bedroom, which was made a lot easier by the temporarily installed stair-lift.

The next few mornings went relatively the same as those before them, until Astoria made an announcement over breakfast.   
“After your doctors’ appointment on Friday, I’ll need to make a visit to my flat quickly. I need to do some laundry and cleaning that Ron and Neville didn’t have time to do.” She had realised that she could only rely on the two men for so much, and hadn’t been able to make a proper visit in nearly a week.

“I understand completely. As much as I’ll hate to be in such a cramped space, I don’t really have a choice but to come with you.” She resisted slapping him, and silently prayed that he wouldn’t be this bad when they went to the hospital. He hadn’t much improved since their movie night, and Astoria came to the conclusion that he probably thought he was been too easy on her, and preceded to make the next few days hell.

Then again, Astoria wondered why she hadn’t expected any less.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco’s appointment with Dr Macmillan proved to be a success. It seemed that, due to Malfoy’s already good health, his fractured toes were practically healed already and his ribs were of almost perfect condition, but it was still recommended he stayed at home until his arm was better healed. The doctor also mentioned that Draco needn’t use the crutch, but was advised to keep it anyway in case of emergency.

It seemed odd seeing Draco standing up, now with a white stick in hand, after so long of seeing him in the wheelchair. Astoria had forgotten how much taller than her he was.

She also noticed that he seemed more confident as they walked towards the exit of the hospital, regaining his ‘I could buy your entire family with no trouble at all’ strut.

“Sir, _please_ don’t walk so quickly. You may fall.” He sighed, but slowed down slightly.  
“ _Fine_.”

There was a mother sitting in the waiting room, who was looking after (if you could call it that) about 4 children. Each one of them was noisier than the other, and they were running around the room at top speed. Astoria attempted to silently tell the mother to calm them down, but no avail. However, as they calmly walked through the desolation the little monsters left, she suddenly turned to the sound of crying.

“ _Mummy!_ That man hit me!” Attempting to bottle up her crippling amusement, Astoria looked behind her.   
Malfoy’s face was emotionless, but she saw a hint of a smirk in his eyes.   
“Well, it’s not my fault. I’m blind you see. Car Crash. Absolute tragedy for my wife and I here.”  
Astoria held in a snort. _Tragedy indeed._ Malfoy continued.  
“I was merely trying to stabilise myself when your child-” he waved his stick in the general direction of the one he had hit, successfully whacking another on the upper arm, “came running past me. It’s not my fault at all.”

Astoria looked at the mother, who looked both embarrassed and angry at the fact that she couldn’t argue with him. Sensing the uncomfortable situation, Astoria spoke up.  
“Now, now, _dear_. We best be off now.” She turned to the mother, “Sorry. Goodbye.”   
Following that, she quickly rushed her blonde companion out of the hospital doors.

Once they reached the car, she attempted to remain angry at him for causing a scene, until he spoke up.  
“Where did I hit it?”  
“You, uh… hit the first one pretty hard around the back of the head. And you got the second one of the arm. The mother looked rather unimpressed.”  
There was a pregnant pause before Malfoy started to chuckle. Giving a snort, Astoria started as well.

Before they knew it the two of them were in stitches, trying to wipe the tears from their eyes as they laughed.

“That’s brilliant. I’m so proud of my coordination. Let’s go to the zoo next, I want to see how many I can injure while I’m there.” Astoria rolled her eyes.

“Maybe next week, sir. First, we need to go to my flat, remember?” A look crossed his face that suggested that _yes_ , he had forgotten. But he wasn’t going to admit it.

* * *

 

The drive to her flat wasn’t a long one, luckily, as the man sitting next to her was beginning to get on her nerves. Not surprising, really.

She parked on the side of the street, happy to see the familiar building. As she guided him up the stairs, her happiness of being home even overtook her desire to push Malfoy down the winding staircase and leave him there for an hour.

She stepped through the door, and turned to see a frowning Malfoy behind her.

“It smells like biscuits. _Why_ does it smell like biscuits.” It seemed like more of a statement than a question. He looked so utterly confused by the atmosphere of her home that it was almost endearing.

* * *

 

Draco was struggling to comprehend the feeling of the flat. He couldn’t see it, but it felt cramped, and yet somehow _cosy_ at the same time.

He had been guided to the sofa, and forced to sit there lest he break anything. Offended, he had resorted to sulking while he heard her clean around him.

Until, of course, he felt something touch his leg. Assuming it was the girl, he called to her.  
“What are you doing?” There wasn’t a reply. Draco frowned.

It felt small, but _much_ bigger than a spider, and it was slowly clawing its way further up his leg.  
This was _not_ an ideal situation.

Unable to handle it anymore, he began shouting as many names beginning with ‘A’ that he knew, before she actually came running.

“You must have said about _10 names_ but _none_ of them were right. “ She sounded tired and _very_ annoyed.  
“There is a creature on my leg. Remove it. What is it. Oh my lord it’s going to molest me _please save me oh god_.” His last sentence came out more and more jumbled as the clawing came closer to his crotch. He heard her footsteps move from the back of the sofa to in front of him.  
She gasped. But Draco noticed it wasn’t a shocked or horrified gasp. It was sort of… _happy_.

“Delilah!” He heard a faint giggling from the girl.   
“Did you find your way out of your cage, sweetie? God, have you been sneaking around the flat for a week? _Clever girl!_ ”

“ _Please_ stop baby-talking the creature and _remove it from my lap._ ” He felt the weight lift off him at the same time as the sweet perfume brushed past him. He huffed.  
“What _is_ that thing, anyway?”

“Delilah is not a _thing, sir_. She is a ferret.”  
“A _ferret_? _Please_ tell me you’re joking.”  
“Nope. She must have snuck out of her cage sometime in the week. It’s a good thing I kept all my windows closed…”  
He rolled his eyes, resulting in a quick whack around the back of the head with a rolled up magazine.   
“Hey! You can’t hit me! I’ll fire you, you know!”  
“Sir, you are currently sitting, _blind_ no less, on _my_ sofa in _my_ flat, gripping a 4-year-old’s Disney Princess blanket in terror of a ferret that likes to nuzzle your crotch. You really don’t want that sort of information getting out.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”  
“No sir. I’m _merely_ stating the obvious.” She feigned innocence, but he could hear the amusement behind it.

* * *

 

Malfoy had remained quiet a good portion of the time, and had even gotten used to Delilah, who had taken an extreme liking to him. As Astoria placed the mug of coffee in front of him, and started to relax back in her armchair whilst nursing her tea, he turned his head in her general direction.

“So, uh. How long have you lived here?” Astoria raised her eyebrows. _That_ was certainly unexpected.  
“About 5 years. I moved here so it would be a quicker drive to work. I used to live with my dad.”

“You made a decision _that_ large, _just_ so you could get to work faster?” He seemed genuinely confused, and a little impressed.  
“Yes, sir. I’ve had to make a lot of decisions that benefit my work life.”

* * *

 

Draco had to admit he felt a little bad. But he also had to admit she _did_ get to work very quickly.

“So, what about your dad, do you see him often?” She remained silent for a moment, before she replied.  
“He’s dead.”

_Oh fuck. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad._

“I, er. I apologise. If you don’t mind me asking…?”  
“Two years ago,” She sounded calm, as if she had had this conversation multiple times before. “Lung Cancer. It’s okay, sir. You didn’t know.”  
 _Hang on, two years ago? As in, around the same time as-_  
“The fundraiser.” He meant it as a statement, his breath catching.

* * *

 

**_Two years earlier_ **

_“Ariadne! Hurry up! We’ll be late!” Draco pulled his suit jacket on, straightening his tie in the mirror. He saw the girl walk in, almost silent apart from the occasional sniffle. He begged the_ lord _she wasn’t crying because of overwork. He had kept her in the office for nearly 7 hours already, since 5am, and he was_ really _not looking for a lawsuit._

 _“Come_ on _, we’ll miss the plane. It leaves in 3 hours and we have a long taxi ride ahead.” He turned to her, frowning.  
“S-sir… I… I can’t go to the Edinburgh Fundraiser. My-”  
“_ What _did you just say to me?”  
“Its- Its my father sir. He-”  
“You know what? I don’t care. I really, truly, don’t. I take highest priority in your life. _ Got that _? I don’t_ care _about whatever_ trouble _your_ father _has gotten into. You are getting on the plane to Edinburgh with and that is that. If you don’t come, you’re fired. There are_ plenty _of people lined up for your job, understood?”_  
The tears that werre pouring down her face, smearing her neatly applied makeup, hardly fazed him.  
“I… I understand sir. I’ll finish organising your bags. Then we can go.”  
“That’s more like it. Hurry along.”

They spent two weeks in Scotland, visiting various branches alongside the main event.

* * *

 

Draco’s stomach felt as if someone had forced cement down his throat.   
“I… Your father…”  
“They organised his funeral for a week after his death. I missed it.” She sighed.  
“And your mother?”  
“Divorce. She lives in Ireland with her new family. I haven’t seen her since I was six.” Suddenly she took on a cheerful demeanour he knew was just for show.  
“It’s fine though. I guess I’m sort of used to it now.” She chuckled, and it sounded hollow.

Draco tried to direct the conversation away from her father. He gently stroked the ferret, now happily curled up on his lap.  
“Do you have a boyfriend?” She snorted into her tea.  
“Never got the chance. I was always so busy doing things for you, I couldn’t ever get far enough into a relationship that mattered. Even when I went on dates, I was usually interrupted half-way through by a work call or something.”

 _Well, at least she’s dedicated._  
“Any siblings?”  
“I have my older sister, Daphne, but we never really got along anyway. She was always so adamant about things like getting _married_ and _having kids_. I haven’t seen her since before Dad died. She sort of ditched me to look after him.” She snorted.

“Joke’s on her though. Her first husband cheated on her, and her second husband thought she was nuts and filed a divorce before running away with her three kids. I thought it was rather entertaining, personally. When I found out, I had a party with Ron and Neville and spent £400 on a bottle of champagne. _£400!_ If you told my younger self I’d be splashing out that much I would have laughed so hard I’d split the seams of my charity-shop dungarees.”

Draco held in a scoff. He’d spent about 10 times that amount on champagne before, but he didn’t quite have the heart to mention it. Her sister really _did_ sound like a bitch.  
“So, did you not have much money growing up?”  
“Not really. My dad was a postman, and had to give up a lot to look after me and Daphne. We had a lot of hand-me-down clothes, and we got made fun of in school, but I sort of got over it, because my dad really loved us. He would try to buy my sister and I things, but they were tiny little things that were the equivalent of Happy Meal toys. I still appreciated every one, though.” She sounded slightly uplifted by the anecdote, which relieved Draco. He had felt slightly bad at the thought of causing one person so much misery.

_Wait, why do I care if I made her life hell? She’s just my PA, right? That’s her job. To put up with it. Why should I care about her problems? She shouldn’t matter this much to me…_

These same thoughts plagued his mind as they drove back to his house.

_Why do I care so much about what she’s feeling? This can’t be normal._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IS IT A BIRD? IS IT A PLANE? NO! ITS A TAKE MY HAND UPDATE!!!!!  
> (I am so sorry- explanation to follow the chapter)

The next week or so proved to be much easier than its predecessors, mainly due to the fact that Malfoy seemed to be getting much better at walking on his own. However, he grudgingly admitted, following a very swift stride into the door frame and a couple of near-death experiences when walking down the stairs, that he did in fact need a bit more practice before going back to work.

Astoria was pleased, to say the least, that he was finally starting to realise how much he needed her help. One of the first things she had done when they returned from the hospital was start to reset all of his electronic devices so that they were just that tiny bit more accessible (she had realised this was indeed necessary following a terribly disturbing incident which began with Malfoy holding his touch screen phone and attempting to type, and ended with a rather flustered Astoria talking to his mother over the phone after he accidentally called her. Both Astoria and Draco had decided that he was better off without a touch screen for a while).

“Okay, so are you _sure_ you’ve got it?” Astoria kept a tight grip on Malfoy’s shoulder as he started walking up the stairs.  
“Yes, I’m sure I have it. I’m not _totally_ hopeless, you know. I just have to remember to feel for the next step, is all…” He put a couple of wavering steps forward, the brunette following quietly behind him.  
“That’s what the stick is for, sir…”  
“I know that! I just want to be confident with walking anyway.”  
Astoria rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. _Understandable._

“S-shit!” Malfoy toppled backwards slightly, missing a step. Without a thought, Astoria quickly put her arm around his waist and caught him before he could fall. He kept the same look of shock on his face as when he fell.  
“Well, um. This is romantic.” Astoria grinned down at him, snickering as his cheeks reddened, a tiny child-like scowl forming on his face as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“Aren’t we the comedian? Please, don’t hesitate to keep me here. It’s not like I can’t see or anything.”  
“Do excuse me, sir.” She helped him stand upright again, thoroughly pleased that Malfoy could not see her cheeky grin as she did so.

“Stop laughing.”  
“I’m not laughing, sir.”  
“Stop smiling, then.”  
“I’m not.” Her grin got wider as she helped Malfoy up a few more steps.  
“Yes, you are! I can hear your smile!”  
“Impossible, sir.”  
“Oh, shut up.”  
Astoria could have sworn she saw the beginning of a smile stretch across Malfoy’s lips before it was gone a split second later.

* * *

Draco leaned back comfortably in the leather chair, mug of tea in hand. He was lucky, admittedly, that the girl had quickly realised it was his favourite place to sit. He had taken to simply calling her ‘girl’ as of late, still mildly embarrassed at the whole debacle at her flat- he didn’t want her to be getting the _wrong idea_ or anything.

 _I mean,_ honestly, _what kind of boss remembers his PA’s name anyway? Not me, that’s for sure. Nooooo sir. Ha ha. I don’t need her that much even. She’s hardly necce- hang on. Where is she, anyway?_

He paused for a moment, listening for the rustle of book pages or the sound of footsteps.

“Sir?”

_JESUS CHRIST._

Draco felt a scorching dampness on his lap following the scare.  He winced, mumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Oh my god, Mr. Malfoy! Are you okay?” He felt the pressure of a hand rest on his shoulder, and another of his lap.  
“Oh god, you spilled your tea. I’m so sorry, come on. Let’s get you out of these clothes.” The mug was quickly whisked from his hands, replaced by his stick, and he let her pull him out of his seat. By the time they had walked upstairs the tea had cooled down, leaving only an uncomfortable wetness around his thighs.  
He heard her rifling around the wardrobe and drawers for a new set of clothes when the doorbell rang.

* * *

Astoria sighed. _I really am not in the mood for house calls right now._

Deciding that Malfoy would probably be okay for a couple of minutes while she answered it, she briskly walked down stairs, opening the door.  
She was not, however, expecting the smirking face of Ron Weasley to welcome her.  
“Bad time?”  
“Fuck off, Ronald. What are you doing here anyway?” She raised an eyebrow, smirking at the scowl that replaced his grin. He had always regretted telling her his full name, she knew all too well.

He held his arms out, offering a nice looking (and very nice _smelling_ ) basket.  
“My mum brought over some baking for Hermione. Said some of the ingredients are good for child development, I don’t really remember. Anyway, I had already told her about your Malfoy situation, so she made extra.”

She was thankful for the gift, but Astoria snorted. “Does she think I’m pregnant or something?” Ron chuckled.  
“Definitely not. She met Malfoy before you were even out of nappies. Pretty sure she feels sorry for you. Imagine it,” he switched to a worryingly close impression of his mother, “ _Poor dear. Having to deal with that horrible boy all day. Let’s hope she gets through it without murdering him._ ”

“Impressive. You’re getting awfully good at those impressions.” She said through her giggles.

“Ah, that’s nothing. Fred and George are great at it- can never beat Ginny though.” Astoria grinned, remembering the youngest Weasley’s penchant for teasing- the two women had hit it off spectacularly at Ron’s wedding (that is, of course, before Ginny had disappeared into the shadows with the Best Man).

“How are the twins, anyway?” She had always liked Fred and George, who were now on their way to being professional stand-up comedians. (Their mother obviously hadn’t approved, but they had said they always wanted to prove their old teachers wrong. Apparently ‘you can’t make a living telling jokes’ was the worst thing you could have ever told them.)

“Well, you know them. They’re trying to dance around the idea of settling down while actually avoiding the fact that they have. George and Angie’s first anniversary is coming up, and I think they want another baby. Fred is getting all gross and sentimental. I think he’s going to pop the question soon.”

“I should think so!  Him and Lee have been together, what, 8 years now?” Ron chuckled.  
“Pretty close to that. I thought he would’ve done it ages ago, but still.” Astoria thought fondly of the two men. She had remembered being introduced to Lee, a sports commentator- she had always thought the two were a perfect couple (due to the fact they both spoke very loud, very fast, and very lovingly of each other). She had gotten close to Ron’s family following her employment at the bank, apparently he had found out she had a particular lack in family excitement so had taken it upon himself to invite her to multiple family events. He had even invited her and her father to his and Hermione’s wedding, five years before.

They talked for a while on the doorstep (she had invited him inside, but he said he’d rather not) about other members of his family, mainly his other siblings. Bill, whom Astoria had always fancied just a little (“everyone does, don’t worry”, Neville had quietly told her when she first met Ron’s siblings) worked at one of the rivalling banks, in the foreign office. It was in the french branch where he had met his wife, Fleur, 10 years before. Charlie worked in animal conservation, mainly reptilian, and travelled around the world. He was currently in Romania, researching a very rare breed of lizard (he swore that the creature breathed fire as a defence mechanism-  he was yet to be believed). Due to being an asexual aromantic, he was certainly not expected (nor was he expecting) to settle down any time soon. Percy worked in politics, and was working his way up the ladder rather quickly (there were bets going on how long it would take him to become Prime Minister- Astoria had a tenner on 5 years). Ginny was a sportswoman, and a bloody good one at that. She was captain of the provincial cricket team, and was near to being picked out for the national team.

Astoria sighed, and Ron returned it with a sad smile.  
“Back to work?”  
“Yeah, I left him in his bedroom. Let’s hope he hasn’t fallen down a flight of stairs and made himself deaf or anything.” She mumbled darkly. The redhead laughed.  
“Well, good luck. But hey, you’ll both be back to work in no time. Freedom!”  
“Yeah! Haha…” Astoria couldn’t work out why she had to force her laughter.

* * *

Draco had, rather impressively, dressed himself. He had felt around for what felt like _years_ for the clothes the girl had left out for him, and okay, so he’d tripped up a couple times and had nearly worn a tie as a belt, but he had done it. So, as any self-respecting, independent, perfectly-functioning-without-a-PA-to-help-him man would do, he sat on the bed and waited for the girl to come back.

_Maybe she’s ditched me. No she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. Would she? No. Never._

His internal argument with himself had, however, gone on for probably a _little_ longer than was considered appropriate (please note reader, that Astoria was talking to Ron for approximately 20 minutes. A grown man was arguing to himself about his PA who he _definitely_ doesn’t like for 20 minutes. _20._ Jesus Christ.) and was halted as he heard footsteps down the hallway.

 _She can’t think I’ve been doing nothing! Um…_ He felt around for a moment, hand searching for his bedside table. _Bingo!_

Grabbing the first book-like thing he could find, he sat upright, cross-legged on the bed, and held the magazine up to his face.

* * *

Astoria had seen a lot of weird shit in her life, but this was something.

“I must say, sir. You’re getting awfully good at this whole ‘getting dressed’ thing.”  
“Why thank you. Just showing you how well I can do things _alone.”_ _  
_ “I also didn’t realise you liked my Grumpy Cat jumper that much. Or my Galaxy pattern drop-crotch trousers.” The giggles she had been trying to hold in escaped as his eyes shot open.

“Uh…”  
“Let me guess, you tried to dress yourself in the clothes you _thought_ I had left out for you?” He tried to recover.  
“ _Actually_ , I think you’ll find I _meant_ to wear this. I just wanted something comfortable to wear while I read this, um…”  
“This month’s edition of Cosmopolitan?”  
“Yes, _obviously_ . I was very interested to read about, uh…” Astoria pulled the magazine from his hands.  
“‘The Cosmo Kama Sutra’?” Malfoy’s face turned a colour which suggested that no, he had not been trying to read about Cosmo’s sex tips, not that Astoria was surprised.  
“Fancy coming clean, sir?”  
“...Maybe?” 

* * *

Luckily, nothing more eventful happened until she was cooking dinner that evening.

Malfoy had simply insisted on her making lasagne again- she could never help being flattered by how much he enjoyed her cooking. He had also insisted on helping her while she made it, which was strangely unlike him, but there they were. Astoria had left him to stir the cheese sauce while she made a salad and she was left shocked by the fact he looked like he was actually _enjoying_ himself (she assumed this was mainly due to the fact he was used to doing pretty much nothing- being useful must have come as a great relief to him).

When it happened, it felt like it had lasted a century; yet somehow (and for some strange, bizarre reason), the moment his hand rested over hers, she felt he pulled away far too soon. Not to mention- just before he pulled away- she could have _sworn_ she felt his thumb _just brush_ over her knuckles.

“A-ah! Sorry about that- terrible balance, you know...” Draco released this strange sounding laughter which sounded _far_ too forced to ever be taken seriously, “I thought I was falling- very easy to do when you can’t see...”

“Of course, sir. Would you like some help with the cheese?”  
“Oh- Oh no, that won’t be necessary, thank you.”

Her arm was limp by her side (had her hand always felt this cold?) as he hastily pushed his hand into his pocket, chewing at his lip.

* * *

_Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot Idiot_

_Why did you do that?? ‘_ Terrible _balance, you know’, My_ god _what’s wrong with you._

 _She going to think you’re so_ stupid _, holy shit_

* * *

She watched him for a moment, admiring the light pink tinge that had spread over his cheeks. As she turned back to the salad, she was once again thoroughly pleased he couldn’t see the small smile that now held itself on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I am endlessly sorry for taking a year to update this. It's been an incomplete chapter for almost the whole time, but here it is.  
> I've been struggling an awful lot with mental health recently, including a nasty hitch in my depression which ended in a short spell in the hospital. My anxiety has led me to struggle a lot with my course, but hopefully I'll be updating a lot more now. Don't worry, I have the whole story planned out so I won't be abandoning it anytime soon.
> 
> I'd also like to thank everyone for the incredibly kind comments left on here- it means so much to have such dedicated readers to support me.
> 
> On a lighter note, can someone please do me a public service and draw Draco in that outfit because I s2g I cried while I was writing it.


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